MAGICIAN'S TOUR

UP AND DOWN AND ROUND ABOUT

THE EAETIT.

BEING THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF THE AMERICAN NOSTRADAMUS,

HARRY KELLA.R

EDITED BY HIS FAITHFUL "FAMILIAR/ 5

"
"SATAN, JUNIOR

CHICAGO:
DONOHUE, HENNEBERRY & CO,
407-425 DEARBORN STREET
 COPYRIGHTED,
BY HARRY KELLAE-;

GIFT
 V

TO

THE HONORABLE MR. FREDERIC CONDE" WILLIAMS

OF THE SUPREME COURT OF MAURITIUS,

THIS VOLUME is RESPECTFULLY DEDICATED,

BY
THE AUTHOR

058
 CONTENTS.
PAGE.
CHAPT - -
T-STABT IN LIFE,

II. THE BULL FIGHT, -

III. TRIUMPHAL TOUR THROUGH MEXICO,

IV. IN THE ROLE OF PROPHET,
V. THROUGH SOUTH AMERICA,
VI. AROUND THE HORN,
VII. SHIPWRECK AND REVERSES,
-
VIII. FIRST Bow IN THE COLONIES,
AT
IX DINING WITH THE MAHARAJAH,
wo
BOAR HUNT IN JAVA,
X.
XI. THE CITY OF SHANGHAI,
XII AT THE COURT OF AVA,
-

XIII. THE SPIRITUALIST EXCITEMENT,

-
XIV. IN THE PUNJAUB,
XV. IN BOMBAY,
XVI THE JUGGLERS OF INDIA, -

XVII, IN AFRICA,
XVIII. HARD LUCK TURNS,
XIX. BEFORE HER MAJESTY,
"

XX KlMBERLEY DIAMOND FIELDS, -

-
XXI SUBSTITUTE FOR JAILS,
1ftft
- - ~
XXII. CHINESE GORDON,
XXIII. AMONG THE KANGAROOS,
" JOHNNY NEWSKY,"
XXIV.
XXV. THE ELEPHANT HUNT,
XXVL IN NEW YORK AND PHILADELPHIA,
-
XXVII. KELLAR AND SPIRITUALISM,
XXVIIL AT HIS OLD HOME,
 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.

THE BULL FIGHT,

FOREST SCENE IN PERU,
THE PALM TREE,
.....
...
15
23
27
A GATE OF MANDALAY, 31

RAPID TRANSIT IN MEXICO, - - 37

VIEW OF MANDALAY, CAPITAL OF BURMAH, - 39
KING THEBAW AND HIS TWO QUEENS, - - 47
THE KING'S PAGODA, MANDALAY, 55
THE SACRED WHITE ELEPHANT, MANDALAY, - - C3
COSTUME OF BURMESE AMBASSADORS, 71

THE SLAUGHTER-GATE AT LUCKNOW, 79

THE TAJ-MAHAL AT AGRA, - 87
ROYAL PALACE AT MANDALAY, - 91
THE SNAKE-CHARMER OF INDIA, - - 101

VIEW OF CAIRO, EGYPT, 109

FOREST SCENE, ISLAND OF MAURITIUS, 117
THE WHITE TERRACE, -
THE PINK TERRACE, -

A KANGAROO HUNT IN AUSTRALIA, -

-133 -
125

139
A ZULU KRAAL, - 143
SCENES IN THE STREETS OF HEOGO, JAPAN, - - 151
LADIES OF CEYLON, - 157
AN ELEPHANT HUNT CEYLON, - - - - 163

VALETTA, THE CAPITAL OF MALTA, - 169

THE PHAROS AT ALEXANDRIA, EGYPT, - - 175
NEAR HAY, NEW SOUTH WALES, - 177
SCEXE NEAR LAUXCKSTON, TASMANIA, - -
181
A GVMPIE MINEH, - -
183
GRAVES OF THE CALEPHS, - - . . ..
193
 A MAGICIAN'S TOUR.

CHAPTER I.

START IN LIFE.

"Come lithe and listen, gentles to me,

And I'll rede ye a lay of grammarye."

So years ago sang good honest Thomas Ingoldsby,

the venerable and good humored pillar of the Angli-
can Church, whose words have delighted generation
after generation since the worthy Dean himself was
laid away with his forbears in the odor of sanctity.
That which is to follow in these pages is not indeed a
tale by any means as gruesome or hair-raising as the
legend of the Spectre Drummer Boy of Salisbury Plain,
or that of Blondie Jacke of Shrewsbury ; it is merely
the simple narration of certain incidents in the life of
"
an American " Wizard who, whilst honestly confessing
that he is not in league with any spirits whatever, red
or white, black or gray, goes on night after night
producing illusions that either Nostradamus, or Rug-
gieri, or even the awful Merlin himself would assuredly
have been unable to do, with all their charms and incan-
tations. Added to this the subject of this sketch, hav-
ing circumnavigated the globe a baker's dozen or so of
times, has had a good many perilous adventures by
flood and field, the relation of some of which may serve
to while away an idle hour to such of his countrymen
and women who happen to chance upon this screed in
the hap-hazard reading of light literature. It may be
(9)
10 A MAGICIAN'S TOUR.
"
surmised that this " yarn can be commenced without
any one feeling that awful necessity of prosecuting it
to the bitter end, which accompanies the perusal of
the ordinary e very-day novel. It is like a modern
farce you can begin at the end or in the middle, and
the effect is equally pleasing.
The above is intended as an ingenious means
of deluding people into reading a preface, who
"
would " skip it directly if the word " Preface" were
printed on the top in big letters. But as a junior devil
I am naturally of an antic disposition, and so may be
easily imagined to be sitting on my reader's shoulder
grinning, and girding, and mopping, and mowing
heartily at the success of my device.
Being after all a good natured devil, and not
desirous of anything but fun and true enjoyment of
mankind, I will at once seriously begin what I have to
say, which is to tell what I know of the life and adven-
tures on this planet of the master whom I have served
"
so long and so faithfully, and whose obedient " familiar
I am.
Well, then, my master's name, that is the name by
which he is known to all, even to good people down
here (or up here) is Harry Kellar, who is known wher-
ever the English language is spoken, and in a great
many places where it is not. Of course, everybody in
these United States is perfectly aware of the bitter con-
troversy that has raged for many years amongst very
learned pundits, as to whether Kellar is an actual,
ordinary, every-day man, with a bald head and an
amiable disposition, as he appears to the casual observ-
er, or whether his plump and pleasing person is merely
an attractive mask which covers the foul proportions
of an intimate chum of the monarch of the place we
never mention. The way in which the strife on this
question continues, and occasionally waxes more and
more dangerously virulent, amuses me, as I of course
happen to know amongst the multitude of things
 START IN LIFE. 11

with which I am acquainted, that Harry -Kellar

came into the world in the way usually adopted by
ordinary mortals. He was in fact born in the little
Town of Erie, in Pennsylvania, in the scorching days
of the summer of the year 1849. Thus he was mani-
festly too young to be one of the California pioneers,
who were by tradition bound to arrive in the land of
El Dorado in the fall of '49, or the spring of '50 at
latest, but he has all the same picked up some of the
stray nuggets which he found lying loose around there
on the occasion of his several visits. My master chose
this obscure town to be born in with set purpose. All
great men are born in out-of-the-way places, as no
doubt you have noticed. You, yourself, who read
this for instance, unless, as is not impossible, you, wor-
u in the
shipful sir, are a royal personage and so born
purple" under palace roof, reflect fame upon the com-
paratively remote place where you first opened your
baby eyes upon this lunatic world.
My master's father was a sturdy early settler of Erie.
In fact he lives there yet. He was a quiet, honest, law-
abiding creature, whose aspirations for his boy consisted
in educating him as well as he knew how, and giving
him a trade. Fancy, a trade for such a one as my mas-
ter, a being who would not quail even in the awful pres-
ence of great Hermes himself! The notion was absurd,
but the good man, Papa Kellar, wasn't to be blamed.
How should he know by instinct the mighty destiny of
his offspring? So he apprenticed' him to a village com-
pounder of drugs. Heavens what fun he had, and what
!

a life the druggist led. He didn't know the properties

of all the drugs by intuition, but he soon learned them,
though it was rather an expensive study in more ways
than one. He found out quickly how to compound one
of those draughts they so commonly send us labelled
" hanstus catharticus, etc." and was accounted a
very
promising youth. He wasn't satisfied with the dai-
ly routine oi' his work at Dr. Squills' drug store, but was
12 A MAGICIAN'S TOUR.

forever making surreptitious experiments, which occa-

sionally were attended with serious results. For
instance, one day he charged a copper vessel with soda
and sulphuric acid, and the result was a terrible explo-
sion, that knocked a hole through the office floor over-
head, and very nearly sent one of the proprietors heaven-
ward. This experience, and the sharp reminder he re-
ceived from his employer, convinced him that the drug
business was neither healthful nor profitable to a youth
of his bent, and he decided to shake the dust of Erie
from off his feet. There is a good deal of dust in Erie.
The Fates and an accommodating freight train were
propitious, and within the next few days Erie had lost
a druggist's apprentice, and New York City had gained
a newsboy. Young Kellar did not long remain on the
streets of New York, however. He wasn't of the mate-
rial which is content to vegetate even in the Metropolis.
His bright face, his energy, and his winning way soon
attracted the attention of Rev. Robert Harcourt, an
English clergyman, whose kind heart prompted him to
take a personal interest in the little Arab. It was a
turning point in young Kellar's career. He went with
the good clergyman, and was finally adopted by him,
and taken away to Canandaigua, N.Y. Mr. Harcourt
became very much attached to his young protege He
placed him under the care of a competent private tutor,
with the intention of preparing him for the Church.
Mr. Harcourt's intentions were good, but his hopes were
not destined to be fulfilled. The youth had no ambition
to take holy orders. He felt restless under the restraint
that was imposed upon him. He wanted liberty, free-
dom he wanted to see the world. No parent could have
;

been kinder to him than was his adopted father, but the
attempt to force his inclinations had the effect of making
the career that had been chosen for him more distasteful
than it otherwise would have been.
Young Kellar had seen an occasional sleight-of-hand
performer, and the wonders which these wandering
 START IN LIFE. 13

illusionists performed inspired him with the desire to

go and do likewise. He decided to become a presti-
digitateur, if possible ; and when a healthy, hearty,
clear-headed boy comes to such a determination, the
world is apt to be the gainer. Soon after this he saw
an advertisement in a Buffalo paper, to the effect that the
Fakir of Ava, a well-known conjurer, wanted a boy to
travel with him, and learn to be a magician. This was
touching fire to light wood. Young Kellar was in a
blaze of excitement in a moment. He determined to
apply for the place, and with him, even then, to decide
was to act. He at once set out for Buffalo, and went
to the Fakir's residence, a magnificent country-seat
about two miles out of the city. When he entered the
yard, the Fakir's little black-and-tan dog jumped at
him in a friendly way, and showed great delight at the
meeting.
The Fakir soon appeared, and after he had talked
with the boy for a short time, said u I have had about
:

one hundred and fifty applications for the place, but

that little dog has shown great animosity to every boy
that entered the gate until you came. You are the
first one he has made friends with. I will give you a
trial."
Of course there are plenty of people who will think
that all this was mere chance, and the Fakir (who, by
the way, was not in the least like one of the tribe who
go by that name now-a-days, and are to be found by
the score on Union Square, New York), would have
taken any other nice, chubby-faced boy that might
have happened to suit the fancy of the black-and-tan
dog. You and I, dear reader, know better, and are
quite aware that the whole business was arranged by
that peculiar " Kismet," or supernatural power, that
guides the uncertain footsteps of embryo nineteenth
century magicians.
Anyhow, in this way my master began his career,
as a sort of acolyte or imp to that celebrated necro-
14 A MAGICIAN'S TOUR.

mancer, known as the Fakir of Ava. To this day he

cherishes the memory of that little black-and-tan dog,
as that of a very dear friend. In speaking of this
eventful period of his life, Mr. Kellar long afterward
" I have never had occasion to
said :
regret the step I
then took, for the dear old Fakir, who is now (1886)
living in retirement in Detroit, Mich., is, and always
has been, one of my best and truest friends.'*
After having traveled for several seasons with the
Fakir, and with him visiting nearly every part of the
United States, my master concluded to start out on
his own account. He told the Fakir what he intended
to do, and the kind old man gave him a good outfit of
" There is no use
apparatus, at the same time saying :
advising you not to go on the road, since you are de-.
termined to do it. So go forth, and may you prosper."
The neophyte went forth, but did not prosper to any
great extent for some time.
He made his first essays in small towns in Michigan,
barely earning money enough to pay his expenses.
He pluckily kept going, however, until he reached
South Bend, Ind. There he met a man named Baily,
who made a proposition to act as his manager. The
new-found friend was plausible and smooth-spoken,
and an agreement was speedily arrived at. Baily took
charge of the box-office, and left town between two
days, taking with him the entire receipts, and leaving
poor Kellar without money with which to pay the bills.
The result was that the sheriff attached all of his
apparatus, and left him with nothing but the clothes
he wore.
Our magician now knew for the first time what it
"
was to be " stranded in a strange town. But he was
not the kind of a man to give up. He walked out of
South Bend in a snow storm, and followed the railroad
track to a station called Salem Crossing. There he
boarded a freight train, and the conductor kindly
allowed him to ride free to Chicago. Once in the
16 A MAGICIAN'S TOUR.

Garden City, he proceeded directly to the Chicago &

North-Western Railway station, and got on a passen-
ger train bound for Milwaukee, His intention was to
" work " the conductor for a free
ride, but that individ-
ual was obdurate, and he put the crest-fallen magician
off the train at Rose Hill, one of Chicago's burying
grounds.
There was a significance in this fact that would
have had a depressing effect on most people, but
Kellar had no intention of laying his magical ambition
in the grave just then. He settled down for a walk to
Waukegan, and after many weary hours' tramp through
the snow, during which he counted the telegraph poles
along the line, and discovered that there were just
twenty-seven to the mile, he arrived safely, but foot-
sore and weary, at his destination. He immediately
called on the proprietor of Phoenix Hall, and after
a pleasant chat with him, flattered his vanity by prais-
ing the brilliant fancy that had led hintuto pitch upon
the name " Phoenix," for a place that had been built
over the ashes of another hall. The proprietor became
very gracious, and purred softly like a cat, when the
conjurer proposed to hire the hall for the next two
nights. The old fellow did not forget to mention,
however, that his rule was to have the rent strictly in
advance. Mr. Kellar was once more very complimen-
.tary, and it was finally agreed that the question of
rent should stand over until 8 o'clock on the evening
of the first performance. My master was young in
those days, and sanguine, and felt sure that by that
time there would be enough money in the box-office to
pay the rent. He then went and ordered a quantity
of flaming hand-bills, announcing the show, and there-
after called on the state assessor to arrange about his
license. At that time, (1867) a United States license
of $ 20 per year, or a proportionate sum for a fractional
part of a year, had to be paid by every entertainment
of that kind. My master gave the assessor a number
 START IN LIFE. 17

of free tickets, and ascertained that the license for the

portion of the year still to run would be
about $4. Of
course he Was Just as well able to pay $4,000. How-
ever, he put a bold face on the matter, and asked the
functionary to make out the receipt. The assessor
was very busy at the time, and asked the magician to
call in the afternoon. This suited the case exactly.
My master told the assessor that he would be rushed
to death with work up to the very moment of his
appearance,- and he asked him to send his collector to
the box-office on the evening of the entertainment. In
view of the number of free tickets he had accepted,
the assessor could not well refuse, and so that matter
was settled.
But all was not plain sailing yet. Upon returning
to the printing office for his hand-bills, a bill for 810
was handed to him, with the reminder that they al-
ways received pay in advance. My master told the
proprietor that he hadn't a cent in the world, but that
he had good prospects, and was honest. The Wauke-
ganer was a little bit incredulous, but even at that ad-
vanced age he was at that time only nineteen my
master could with ease perform the curious feat known
as " talking the hind leg off a donkey," and so he soon
gained his point, and the announcements, and started
out to stick them up all over the place himself. No
one seemed to suspect that the smooth-faced youth
was agent, proprietor, and artist rolled in one.
There was at the hotel a very persevering lightning-
rod man, who was selling shares in a new company
that had been started for the purpose of manufacturing
a copper-pointed lightnkig-rod. The shares were nom-
inally fifty dollars each, and he had found quite a
number of subscribers, the most enthusiastic of them
all being the landlord of the hotel. This agent offered
four shares in his concern for the first night's receipts,
saying that the shares would soon be above par, and
that there would be a good profit on the investment.
18 A MAGICIAN'S TOUR.

Kellar said he didn't care to sell out for stock in this

company, although he had no doubt it would be a good
investment, but that if the agent would give him two
shares and sixty dollars in cash, he would hand over
the first To these terms the lightning-
night's returns.
rod man consented. About this time, Mr. Kellar con-
sidered a bird in hand worth a million in the bush.
He sold the two shares to the landlord for fifty dollars,
which sum, together with the sixty dollars in cash he
had before received, made him feel that; he was the
richest man in the world. He certainly was then one
of the happiest. He immediately called on the
printer and paid his bill with all the dignity of a mil-
lionaire. He next went to the assessor's office and
paid the license, and he also paid the hall rent for the
two nights in advance.
Up to this time it had not occurred to him how he
was going to give the entertainment, his time having
all been taken up in arranging the business matters.
Now that everything looked bright, he prepared for the
performance. He procured some tin disks from the
tinsmith for the " Aerial Treasury," got a pack of
cards for card tricks, ordered two tin cups for the coffee
and milk trick, procured three candle boxes, and cov-
ered them with white paper so that they looked quite
neat, and in place of strips of blue and white paper
used saw-dust, of v/hich there was an abundance in the
hall. He arranged an ordinary champagne bottle for
the bottle trick, and used a small kitten instead of a
Guinea pig. In this way he managed to provide quite
an interesting entertainment.
In one of his tricks he borrowed a ring* apparently
destroying it. He then produced an envelope ad-
dressed to some prominent person in the audience, and
inside this envelope would be found another envelope
addressed to some one else, and so on for ten or twelve
changes, each cover, of course, being smaller than the
one enclosing it. The very last envelope contained
 THE BULL FIGHT. 19

the borrowed ring, perfectly restored. On this occa-

sion, he had obtained the names of several prominent
persons, which he wrote on the envelopes prepared for
the trick. When he asked to borrow a ring, a very
pretty little lady, with snapping black eyes, handed
him a small band with a solitaire diamond setting. He
made a few remarks about some conjurers using cum-
bersome apparatus, whereas he depended entirely on
the dexterity of his hands to accomplish his wonders.
He scorned to use apparatus (for the best reason in
the world, he had none to use), and calling a small boy
on the stage, he gave him what appeared to be the bor-
rowed ring. There was no scenery, and at the back of
the stage there were three windows. Under these
windows flowed a stream of water. Mr. Kellar told
the lad to throw the ring out of the window into the
stream. He then produced the prepared envelopes.
The first name was called. A gentleman stood up,
opened the flap, and read the name on the next cover,
and so the package passed to about ten different per-
sons. Of course when it came to the last one, Mr.
Kellar intended to say, " There you will find the bor-
rowed ring."Imagine his surprise and delight, when,
on the last name being
called, the little lady who had
so kindly loaned the ring, arose. He told her to open
the envelope and she would find her ring within.
There was a dead silence for a moment, and then the
magician was greeted with rounds of loud and pro-
longed applause. The lady belorfged to one of the first
families of the town, and it was without pre-arrange-
rnent that she loaned her ring, and that her name ap-
peared on the last envelope. Mr. Kellar didn't know
who the persons were that were on his list for the
trick. He only knew that they were in the audience,
as he had requested the doorkeeper to give him the
names of some of the leading people in the hall, and Miss
W's appeared among the rest. It was the best trick
20

he ever performed, and it brought him a crowded house

for the following night.
He had a heavy pocket, a light heart, and was in
high spirits at the favorable turn his fortunes appeared
to have taken. Of course all this good luck was to be
set down to the credit of the young lady with black
eyes. She was his " genius of the ring."

CHAPTER II.

THE BULL FIGHT.

From Waukegan, my master went to LaCrosse,

Wisconsin, where he met the Davenport Brothers &
Fay. Spiritual Mediums. He joined them, first as
assistant, then as agent, and afterwards as business
manager. He travelled with them over the greater
part of the United States (including California) and
Canada, over the Continent of Europe, through Russia,
via Riga, Moscow, St. Petersburg, Nijni-Novgorod and
Odessa; thence back again to the United States. In
the summer of 1871, he piloted them through Texas.
They travelled all over that State in wagons. There
was no railroad beyond Hearne then, and their route
was from Galveston to Houston, Columbus, San
Antonio, Austin, Lampasas Springs, Dallas, and Shreve-
povt, and thence by boat down the river to New Or-
leans.
From Lampasas to Dallas the road ran through a
very wild country, and there had been considerable
trouble with the Comanche Indians in that section.
They had made several raids on the cattle ranches.
One morning as my master was quietly jogging along
(two days in advance of the company) over a rolling
prairie, he heard whooping and yelling behind him, as
 THE BULL FIGHT. 21

if pandemonium had broken loose. He turned, and to

his horror, saw three Indians riding toward him from
different directions. They were coming on at full tilt,
and when they saw him whipping his horse, they yelled
all the more. He had no arms, and he felt that the
chase would very likely be a short one. He expected
every moment to have a bullet crash through his skull,
and lie was mentally picturing himself scalped and left
as food for -the vultures. Suddenly, at the top of a
rise, he saw a large herd of cattle, and a number of
white cowboys, who took in the situation at a glance.
They had a hearty laugh at Mr. Kellar's expense, for
the Indians were also cowboys, belonging to the same
gang, and they had been scouring the country in search
of stray cattle. He was a long time in getting over
his agitation,and his poor pony was so injured in his
breathing, that he was never good for anything after-
ward.
In the spring of 1873, Prof. Fay and Mr. Kellar left
the Davenport Brothers, and formed the combination
known as " Fay & Kellar." They travelled through
Canada that summer. In the fall they took a tour
through the Southern States, going through Florida to
" "
Key West, where they were stranded for lack of
funds. There Mr. Kellar became acquainted with Cap-
tain McKay, the proprietor of a cattle steamer running
from Tampa, via Key West, to Havana. He also be-
came intimately acquainted with Capt. Gushing, U. S.
N. Captain McKay offered Mr. Kellar a passage to
Cuba, telling him that there was a splendid opening
for him there, and promising that if Mr. Kellar could
make no satisfactory arrangements, he would bring him
back to Key West. Mr. Kellar went with him, leaving
Mr. Fay at Key West awaiting results. Upon arriving
at Havana, Mr. Kellar called on Senor Albisti, and
made a contract with him for a tour of the entire
Island of Cuba, to play in the principal theaters. Mr.
Kellar sent for Fay and the baggage, and
they com-
22 A MAGICIAN* S TOUE.

menced operations at the Albisu Theater, in Havana.

The Lucca-DeMurska Opera Company were then sing-
ing at the Tacon Theater. The Kellar & Fay receipts
the first night were over $3,000. The Governor Gen-
eral occupied a box, and paid for it like a man and a
soldier, and this doubtless contributed much to the
success of the venture.
At this time my master was not familiar with the
Spanish language. He knew German well, and had a
fair knowledge of Latin, but these accomplishments did
not help him much among the descendants of the Old
Castilians. The usual way in such cases is to hire an
interpreter, but the man available for the work, de-
manded three hundred dollars a night, and in other
respects, seemed to imagine himself the principal fea-
ture of the show. Then came out that spirit of splendid
independence, which animated Kellar's ancestors at
Concord and Lexington. He could not brook the idea
of giving himself up altogether to the mercies of an in-
terpreter, who might not, improbably, say all sorts of
things that, to put it mildly, would be directly contrary
to the facts. He determined to be his own interpreter.
Being always apt in this regard, he had all his speeches
written out in good colloquial Spanish, and carefully
committed them to memory.
His knowledge of Latin assisted him materially, in
at once comprehending what he was talking about.
As a matter of fact, this scheme added to the attrac-
tiveness of the entertainment. His Spanish was good
enough to make every person in the audience under-
stand him, and it was at times bad enough to be very
funny. It was not long before he could speak the lan-
guage fluently. Thereafter Mr. Kellar always depend-
ed upon himself to do his own talking. Whenever he
finds it necessary to address an audience, with whose
language he is unfamiliar, he recalls his Cuban expe-
rience, and gets out of same way.
his difficulty in the
He now speaks with perfect ease North American,
24 A MAGICIAN'S TOUR.

English, French, Spanish, German, Italian, Fiji, Tamil,

Mahratta, Arabic, and of course Pennsylvania Dutch.
Besides these, he has enough knowledge of Scandina-
vian, to get along with an audience in Stockholm, or
Copenhagen ; is entirely at home with the peasants in
Brittany, and has a sufficient acquaintance with the
Romaic, to enable him to pass for a Romany Rye.
While in Havana, Mr. Kellar attended a bull fight
at the Plaza de Torres. The Plaza is an enormous
circular building, or coliseum, with an immense ring in
the center, and seats ranged in tiers around the sides,
like a circus. It was a magnificent afternoon. The
sun shone brightly; the intense blueness of the sky
was flecked with fleecy white clouds, and the faintest
suspicion of a breeze toyed lightly with the costly laces
of the dark-eyed Cuban beauties. The Plaza was
crowded with the elite and fashion of the city. It
was super-crowded by the throng of the lower clashes,
whose eager faces testified to their love of the national
sport.
They had not long to wait. Precisely at the hour
named for the beginning of the sport, the Juez, or
Judge, gave a signal, and a clamorous bugle-call
summoned the Torreros. A gay looking lot they were,
tricked out in their bright and gaudy costumes. Some
were mounted on horse-back, armed with sharply
pointed poles others were on foot, and brandished flags
,

and banderillas.
They salute the judge and audience. All retire
save the mounted picadores. A
large gate is clumsily
flung open. There is an instant's pause, then dashes
into the ring an enormous Spanish bull. Around the
Plaza runs a murmur of admiring applause. What a
superbly magnificent brute ! A
tawny massive head,
strong, sturdy shoulders, and madly enraged, wicked
eyes !He hesitates a moment, then throws up his
head, as if in disdain of the gaping multitude, and
 THE BULL FIGHT. 25

makes a wild dash at one of the horsemen. The pica-

dor quickly wheels his sorry looking steed to one side,
and receives the bull with his pointed pole. 'Tis only
an insignificant prick, scarcely drawing the blood,
but it thoroughly maddens the enraged animal. He
turns so rapidly that the picador has no chance of es-
cape. A savage, headlong dash, and the unfortunate
horse is disemboweled, and the rider thrown heavily
to the ground. He is evidently injured, for he makes
an awkward effort to arise. Poor devil !He will
never again flaunt his gaily decked lance. A mad
rush, a low, shuddering sound, a human being is tossed
high in the air, and the white horns of the bull flash to
the bright sunshine the red life blood of their victim.
The excitement intense.
is The vast audience
has risen to its feet, and as the body of the picador
falls limply to the ground, their pent-up feelings find
a vent in savage "-Bravo Torro," "Bravo Torro!"
"
(" Well done, bull ! Well done, bull ")
!

The animal looks wonderingly around, as though

satisfied with its bloody work. The pause is taken
advantage of. Man and dead picador and dead
beast,
horse are drawn from the ring. The ground is cleaned.
The audience resume their seats, and the sport pro-
ceeds.
A very sprightly looking youth now bounds lightly
into the ring. In his hands are two sticks, barb-pointed,
and frilled with white paper. With a stick in either
hand, he walks up directly in front of the bull. The
animal gazes curiously at this new adversary, seeming-
ly at a loss what to make of him. But only for an in-
stant. The massive head is lowered, and the animal
dashes madly forward. The youth flinches not an
iota, and just as one imagines that the bull is upon
him, he steps nimbly to one side, and adroitly, but oh !

how 'firmly and accurately, implants his sticks, one

upon either shoulder of the animal. Then he sends a
26 A MAGICIAN'S TOUR.

quick but graceful salute to the beauty and fashion

ranged above him, and runs for shelter behind one of
the many safety shields that surround the ring.
Now comes the matador. He is conscious that the
eyes of the city are upon him. His head is thrown
high in the air, his bearing is proud and erect, and he
carries his sword with the grace of a Roman gladiator.
In his left hand is a red flag. The bull eyes his new
foe distrustfully. He is no longer on the aggressive.
But the matador knows his quarry. He brandishes his
red flag across the bull's eyes. He gradually works
the animal into a fierce passion. It dashes at its tor-
mentor. But the matador quickly steps aside, leaving
the bull to toss the flag high over its horns. This
baiting is repeated for a few times. Then the audi-
ence, wearying of such harmless sport yell loudly,
" kill."
kill,
Now the matador almost imperceptibly draws him-
self together. He approaches the bull, stands directly
in front of him, and waves the tantalizing red flag.
The bull hesitates at this new form of attack. The
delay is fatal. With a sudden lunge the matador
thrusts his unerring sword between the shoulders of
the animal, the blade passing through the heart and
out on the other side of the body. The huge beast
falls on its front legs. The massive head is thrown up
once in a last proud defiance, then falls, and the
dark blood spurts in torrents from the gaping wound.
The crowd yells itself hoarse with delight. And the
matador retires, the proudest man in that vast con-
course.
Four splendid mules, gaily caparisoned, with many
colored ribbons braided in their manes and tails, are
now brought into the arena and fastened to the dead
beast. They drag it once around the course, and every
neck is craned to get a glimpse of the torro, which
fought so hard for its life. Then, amid blowing of
 TRIUMPHAL TOUR THROUGH MEXICO. 27

bugles, the mules and their load disappear, the ground

is cleansed, room is made for, and the crowd await, the
next victim.
Bull fights take place in Havana every Thursday
and Sunday afternoon.

THE PALM TREE.

 "THANK GOD THERE IS LIGHT AHEAD." 125

The District Attorney was on his feet in an

instant.
"
"This without precedent
is
" That's
true," assented Mr. Wright, parenthet-

ically.
" I
say it is without precedent," repeated the
District Attorney, waving his arms like a windmill.
"
Here comes an attorney and asks for delay that
he may present evidence to prove that his client is

guilty to which the client very naturally objects.

And what kind of testimony is it? Why it's as

ridiculous on its facean old woman's ghost

as

story. I hope Your Honor will not grant an

adjournment."
" But the Court said
will," Judge Blackwood,
with a promptness and decision that almost took the
" It will not
District Attorney's breath away. do,"
he continued, gravely, " to scoff at things we can
not understand, especially when there is a life

at stake," and the adjournment was granted.

Wheeler was so weak and nervous when he
reached Mr. Wright's office that he begged permis-
sion to go into the private room and lie down. Mr.
Wright's explanation to the Court, in which he had
shown that Miss Menton had caused him to do a
murder, had unmanned him. He dared not think
126 WAS IT A CRIME?

of it, and yet the lawyer's words echoed and re-

echoed through his brain.

" Now do
you see why I did not want to tell

AVheeler?" said lawyer Wright to Mr. Ellersly

when they were alone. " I knew that a man of his
impulsive, nervous nature would be quite certain to
act just as he did when the secret was revealed. We
can never make him believe that he committed that

murder, and that very fact strengthens our case

with the court and jury. To-morrow I will read the
confession."
"Thank God there's light ahead," said Mr.

Ellersly, fervently. "But poor Wheeler! It will

blight his life."

" That's where
you are mistaken," answered Mr.
" It will not
Wright. blight his life a whit more
than it will mine."
 CHAPTER XITL
A BUBNING DE8IEE FOB BEVENGE UPON THE MAN
WHO HAD BOBBED ME OF MY LOVE.

When the Denman murder trial was resumed on

the following day there were half a dozen scholarly-

looking men occupying seats within the railing.

" Those are the said a quid nunc in the
experts,"
audience, and those who heard him looked at the
scientific gentlemen with much the same interest
they would have exhibited in viewing a collection of
Bengal tigers.
When Mr. Wright arose and began to unfold a
roll of manuscript the audience held its breath, for
the promised confession, the strangest of all con-
fessions ever known in the annals of crime of the

great city of New York, was about to be read.

" " is
This," said Mr. Wright, the statement of
Helene Menton, made in articulo mortis on the
twelfth day of December of this year the day
before yesterday. The unhappy woman since that
time has gone- before that higher Court where all

may hope for mercy. Let us hope that she may

127
128 WAS IT A CRIME?

receive it. She died at 12 o'clock last night."

Mr. Wright continued: "The confession reads

thus:
"
Believing death to be at hand, I, Helene Men-
'

ton, as an act of justice to an innocent man, and in

the hope of forgiveness through this act, solemnly
declare that I am morally guilty of the murder of

Paul Denman. That the world may not judge me

too harshly let me relate the story of my life : I

why I was moved to be revenged upon the

will tell

man who robbed me of happiness and honor, when

they were almost within my grasp, after long years
of misery and neglect. I was born in Paris on the

30th of June, 1856. My mother, who, at the time

of her marriage was a dancer of some renown in

the theatrical world of Paris, died when I was five

years old, leaving me to my father's care. Even

my earliest recollections are sorrowful and bitter.
I craved affection but could not find it.
My father

was cold in his nature. I saw but little of him, as

most of his time was devoted to his studies. When
I was eight years old I went with him to India.
We spent three years there.
I was left to the care

of nurses most of that time. father had aMy

craze to solve the mysteries of occultism. It never

occurred to him that the nature of his child was

 A BURNING BESIRE FOR REVENGE. 129

worthy of investigation. From India we went to

England. Russia soon offered attractions to him.
So it was, up to my twentieth year we were con-

stantly journeying from one country to another.

His associates were mostly scientific men. It made

no difference what a man's moral character was; so

long as he was a scholar my father's house was

always open to him. I grew to womanhood in an

atmosphere of cynicism, selfishness and material-

ism. I never knew a truly good woman in my life.
I have never known the refining influence of home.
My surroundings have been without sentiment,
without love, and without a tinge of moral color.
" '
And yet the woman's heart within me did not
wither in this unhealthy atmosphere. I had vague

longings for a life that was not cold, hard and sel-

fish. I believed that I deserved a kinder fate. My

hopes seemed about to be realized when Paul Den-
man thrust himself into my life. We had been
living in Paris about five years. Those five years
had been full of misery to me. It would have
been better for me had I left my father's house and
sought refuge in a convent. Once I thought of
doing so; but my father had destroyed my faith in
religion, by his cold and logical arguments, and I
turned back to the old life without hope.
13G WAS IT A CHIME?

"
'.The society which I met at our house in Paris
I could not call it home
was gradually killing
what little sentiment and tenderness there was left
in me, when I met the Count Ludwig. He was
brought to our house by one of my father's friends
a German. He was the first man I had ever met
since I had become old enough .to understand
human motives who seemed to have an honest re-

spect for me. He talked to me of those things of

which I had so often thought in my lonely misery

of home life, of his mother, and once I found
myself weeping as I listened to his description of
the beauty and goodness of his sisters, and the

happiness of one of them in her preparations for her

approaching marriage to a man she loved and
respected. These were the first tears I had shed
since childhood. deeply moved the
My grief
Count. His sympathy was sweet to me and I
poured out to him the story of my unhappy life.
"Poor child!" said he, and he took my hand and
pressed it kindly. From that moment I loved him
with a love that women who have had affection all

their lives could not understand. I worshipped

him.
" (
He became a constant visitor at our house. I

held myself aloof as much as possible from the

 A BURNING DESIRE FOR REVENGE. 131

others who came almost nightly. My father put no

restraints upon his guests. They played at cards,

drank till late into the night, and came and went as

they pleased. This was my father's idea of hospi-

tality. It amused -him to see men get drunk, and

he would laugh heartily when they lost their money
at cards. He never joined them at the gaming
table. My love for the Count ennobled my aspira-
tions, and I hated my surroundings with a bitter-
ness stronger than ever. To my great joy I soon
discovered that my affection for the Count was
reciprocated. The bliss of the moment when he
took me in his arms and kissed me the first kiss

a lover ever imprinted

upon my lips comes back
to me
now, and I am happy, even in these my dying
moments. I was to be his wife, an honored wife
and a Countess. I will not deny that the position I
would secure in society by marrying Ludwig
increased my desire to become his wife, and influ-
enced me
almost equally with my love for him, in

naming an early day for the wedding.

" *
I was to get out of the meshes which had held
me all my life. I was to live among good people,,
to be respected a Countess. Women who have
never known what it is to be without the respect of
the world to be unknown and neglected can not
132 WAS IT A CHIME?

appreciate how great was the joy which possessed me

when saw the way opened to an honored place in
I
in society. I was to have been married to the Count

in December five years ago. In November Paul

Denman was brought to our house by a young art

student a forward young man who had called only

once or twice before. Denman was one of the coarsest
men I had ever met. He did not have even the super-
ficial refinement of the professional rou& He pre-
sumed that because it was not difficult to be intro-
duced at our house, and because of the unconven-

tionality of the life we led, that I was entitled to

little better treatment than the shameless women of

the streets. I directed the servants not to admit

him if he should call again. He came on the fol-

lowing night. The

servants carried out my com-

mands, and he turned from the door, cursing me and

every one in the house. I think he was drunk that

night as well as the night before.

" A few nights later,
*
on returning from the opera
with the Count, happy in his society and in the

prospect of our approaching marriage, we stopped

at a cafe, as was our custom after the play or opera.

This man Denman occupied a seat at a table near

where we sat. I had not told Ludwig of the insult
he had offered me. I dared not. Denman seemed
 A BURNING DESIRE FOR REVENGE. 133

bent upon showing me that he despised me. He

stared at me so contemptuously and insultingly that

Ludwig noticed it, and before I could entreat him

not to pay any attention to him he had crossed to

where Denman sat. They quarreled. Ludwig was

the smaller man and Demnan, the
of the two,

coward, took advantage of his physical power; he

knocked him down. The Count challenged him.
I begged him not to fight with so low, so base a

man, but I could not change his purpose. I prayed

that night for the first time since my childhood. I

might have known that such prayers as I could offer

would not be answered; I had 110 right to expect it.
" '
I never looked upon the face of Ludwig again.
He fell by the hand of a man his inferior in cour-

age, in honor, and in manliness. Perhaps it was

his fate. My father had a passing interest in my
grief. He searched all Paris for Denman, but
could not find a trace of him. Two years later we
came to New York. My father was born here, but
was educated abroad, and had no love for his native

country. We live here very much as we did in

Paris, though my father's associates in New York

are of a better class, morally, than those who
gathered around him there. I had drifted back
into the old life. If anything I grew harder, more
134 WAS IT A CKIME?

indifferent than ever, without hope of happiness,

but with a burning desire for revenge upon the
man who had robbed me of my love, and cheated
me of a place among good women. Can I be
blamed? What else was there for me to live for?
" I was leading this miserable existence
*
when
Mr. Wheeler who, next to the Count, I admired
more than any one I had ever met brought Den-
man to our house. He did not know whom he was
to meet. He trembled under the glance I gave
him. His conscience made a coward of him.
From that moment I devoted my every thought to
devising some means of revenge. Nothing but his
life would satisfy me. I encouraged him to return.
I knew his weakness, and seemingly lowered myself

to the level on which he had placed me. I had not

yet thought of a way of wreaking my revenge. I

had only one desire; that was, to kill him. I

believe it would have resulted in my doing the
deed with my own hand had not a novel means pre-
sented itself. The method which I used suggested
itself to me after a conversation I had with Prof.

Ryse. He described to me how the investigations

of hypnotism had been carried to such an extent in
Paris as to prove beyond a doubt that an impres-
sion could be conveyed to a person, while in the
 A BUENING DESIRE FOB BEVENGE. 135

hypnotic state, which could be re-awakened at any

time that might be determined upon by the opera-
tor. He showed me the report of a case in which a
man who had been hypnotized had been directed
by the person who hypnotized him one week
from that day and hour, to take off his shoes and

stockings and walk barefooted for a hundred yards.

The experiment was a success. The Professor

pointed out the danger of the abuse of this strange

power a murder might be done by its aid, he
said.
" *

My mind acted quickly. I decided to try this

powerful agent, with which I was familiar in a

general way. I never thought of Mr. Wheeler as a

subject until he himself suggested it in a playful

way. I can not comprehend how I consented to

make him a partner to my crime. The opportunity
suggested itself sooner than I had expected. On
the night of the 6th of November there were a
number of guests at our house; among them Paul
Denman, Mr. Wheeler, Dr. Grip, Mr. Landis,
Colonel McPhister, and his friend Judge Black-
wood. The conversation turned upon psychology,
and Prof. Byse, who has made hypnotism the sub-

ject of thoughtful study and investigation, began to

16
186 WAS IT A CRIME?

describe the advancement which had been made

in it.

" '
I felt guilty even in the contemplation of the

act,and was fearful that Professor -Kyse would go

on to say that it was possible for a murder to be
done through its power as he had suggested to

me.
" '
I was not unfamiliar with the method of pro-

ducing the hypnotic trance. I would have known

how to do it without Professor Ryse's directions.
To every one in the room but myself the hypnotis-
ing of Mr. Wheeler was a pleasing experiment

nothing more. My first attempt failed. I had not

intended that it should succeed. It was my pur-
pose to be alone with Mr. Wheeler. I succeeded
in getting the other members of the company to

leave the room. Mr. Wheeler was perfectly willing

to be hypnotized. He suspected nothing, feared
nothing.
"'I could not have found a better subject. In a

very few moments he had, by following my direc-

tionsand gazing fixedly at the small object I held

in my hand a golden bullet prophetic instru-
ment, which I had borrowed from Colonel Mc-
Phister passed into the hypnotic state. It was
 A BURNING DESIRE FOR REVENGE. 137

then that I called the guests in. I caused Mr.

Wheeler to do a few of the things which are in the

alphabet of hypnotism. I could not resist the

temptation to mentally describe the scene at the

caf& in Paris, which led to the loss of my lover, the

blasting of my hopes and to this crime. Mr.

Wheeler repeated the words aloud. I could see

that it struck fear to Denman's heart, and I enjoyed

it with a savage satisfaction.

" '1
was in doubt as to whether I could convey
an impression to Mr. Wheeler mentally that would
be active after I should arouse him from his trance.

So, pretending that there was a great deal ofmys-

tery connected with the process of bringing him out
of the sleep, which I did not care to explain, I asked
the company to leave the room. They did so. It

was in the moment that they were absent that I

repeated aloud, and with all the impressiveness I
could assume, these words: "At three o'clock, get a
knife and plunge it into Paul Denman's heart." I
said these words three times. Poor Mr. Wheeler
repeated them after me, as innocently as he would
have repeated a prayer. Then I awoke him from
his trance,and the party dispersed. Suddenly, the
thought entered my mind that it was impossible for
138 WAS IT A CRIME?

Wheeler to carrj out my directions, because ne

would doubtless be asleep at that hour. I had
never heard that an impression could be retained
and put in execution if the subject were in a natural
sleep at the time when that impression should sug-

gest itself to the mind. This doubt brought with

it the hope that wicked plan would fail. I be-
my
gan then to realize how awful it was to make a
murderer of this innocent man who trusted me.
The deed was done as I had ordered it: it was done
at the hour I had named, as the autopsy proves.
Henry Wheeler is as innocent of the crime as a

babe unborn. I am the murderess, as much so as if I

had with my own hand driven the dagger into Paul

Denman's heart. The persons whose names I have
mentioned in dying confession, who were
this, my
present when I hypnotized Mr. Wheeler, will attest
the truth of my statement as to what took place at

my house. I am about to die. I am not sorry that

Denman was murdered. I feel that the only crime
I committed was in making Mr. Wheeler the in-

strument. By the friendship he once professed

for me I beg his forgiveness. I was heartbroken

and desperate when the means was placed in my

hands to destroy the man who had, without cause,
 A BURNING DESIRE FOR REVENGE. 139

robbed my life of the only hope and happiness it had

ever known, and I could not resist the temptation to

employ it. I die glad to quit a world which has

;

been so hard to me. Henry Wheeler is no more

responsible for the death of Paul Denman than is

the inanimate knife rhich penetrated that bad

"
heart.'
 CHAPTEB XIV.

"NOT GUILTY."

During the reading of the dying confession of

Helene Menton, the voice of Mr. Wright was the
only sound that broke the stillness of the court
room. It created a profound sensation, not
only
among the spectators, but among the jurymen.
Mr. Wright proceeded to prove by Mr. Ellersly
and Johnson the correctness of the document which
he had just read, after which Prof. Ryse was called,
and the taking of what has come to be called
" "
experttestimony was begun. Prof. Ryse first
described what had taken place at the Menton house
on the night of the murder, corroborating the testi-

mony of Miss Menton in every detail, so far as it

related to what was done in the presence of the

guests.
" You are sure that Mr. Wheeler was hypnotized
by Miss Menton, are you?" asked Mr. Wright.
" There is no doubt of it."

" Do you believe it

possible for an impression to
have been conveyed to him while he was in the hyp-
140
 "NOT GUILTY." 143

notized state that would impel him to commit an

act after he should be brought out of that state?"
"Yes."
"Do you think it possible for this crime to
have been committed as set forth in Miss Menton's
confession?"
"Yes."
" Please tell the
jury something of the general
characteristics of the hypnotic power."
" Professor " is not
Hypnotism," began Ryse, yet
thoroughly understood. The uses to which it may
be put are more numerous than even the most
advanced scientific men dreamed of five years ago.

The hypnotic condition, as nearly as it can be

defined, is almost a counterpart of somnambulism.

It is a well established fact that the sleep-walker

has^ absolutely no remembrance in his waking

moments of what he has done in his somnambulistic
tours. It is so in hypnotism. been proved,
It has

by frequent experiments, that a man may be hypno-

tized on a certain day and have a train of
thought
awakened in his mind by the operator, and then
be suddenly restored to his normal condition. A
week later, say, the same man is again put into the
hypnotic trance. It is quite likely that he will at
once take up the subject which the operator had
144 WAS IT A CRIME?

suggested to his mind when he was in the same

condition a week before, and continue it until the

operator directs his thoughts into other channels.

It has been proved, too, that the operator may con-

vey impressions to his subjects, which, under a

command given to the subject at the same time,
will emerge from the registering ganglia of the
brain at a day and hour, even weeks distant, and be
as potent as if the subject were still in the hypnotic

sleep before the operator."

"What kind of memory would you call that?"
asked Mr. Wright.
" That
can only be conjectured. Some writers
claim that it is purely cerebral memory. There can
be no doubt that the spinal cord may be educated
to perform the functions of cerebral memory. I

believe that actors have unconsciously cultivated

medullary memory. By its aid they are enabled to

repeat lines of a part without conscious volition.

However, wherever the place of retention of an

impression may be, there can be no question but
that it is retained. I see no reason to doubt that

the crime was committed through the hypnotic

power, in view of the statement of the operator."

The celebrated Nurgson, the French physiolo-
gist, could not give his testimony in English, and
 "NOT GUILTY." 145

it was with some difficulty that the court interpreter

made clear some of his technical phrases. He
began by describing the immediate effect of the

hypnotic influence. Said he:

" The first step put the subject into a pro-
is to

found sleep a state of complete unconsciousness.

His mind is a blank. He has no thoughts save

those which are suggested to him by the operator.
He is as if in a dreamless sleep; dead, for the time.
As I have said, mental activity is awakened only

by In the ordinary biological condi-

the operator.
tion the subject has his eyes open and seems to

know what is taking place; but in the complete

hypnotic trance his eyes are almost invariably
closed. He
seems to be in a torpor. His bodily
movements are slow, and his mind, even under the
immediate direction of the operator works labori-

ously. There is an appearance of stupidity about

him.
"Some subjects are more susceptible than
others, though nine persons in ten may be hyp-
notized. The chief requisite is a willingness to
submit to the influence. The subject must be in a
state of mental abstraction; from that state he
passes by imperceptible stages into the hypnotic
condition. He becomes, as has been well expressed
146 WAS IT A CHIME?

by an English writer, a mere statue of attention, a

listening, expectant life; a perfectly undistracted

faculty. While in this expectant condition, any-

thing that is suggested to the subject is magnified;

joy is doubly joyful ;
fear is doubly fearful. Every
sense is exalted. The subject's whole being, his
entire sensibility seems to live in each faculty
of perception, as it is aroused to action. Even his

physical strength is increased; his muscles will

stand a strain that would lacerate them if he were
in his normal condition. Men who are incapable
of lifting a hundred pounds can be made to lift
twice that weight. Persons have been known to

perform feats while under the hypnotic influence

which they would not dare even attempt in their
usual state.
" is really an artificial sleep. What
Hypnotism
takes place during the time that a person is in that

sleep may be likened to the dreams that one has in

his natural sleep of which he has no recollection

unconscious cerebration. There

nothing super- is

natural about it. There can be no doubt that it is

a dangerous power. .
Properly used, however, it

may be made of incalculable benefit to mankind.

Patients on whom operations were to be performed

have been hypnotized and the operation done with-
 "NOT GUILTY.** 147

out pain to them and without their knowledge. It

is the most powerful of all anaesthetics, and alto-

gether harmless in its effects. Its value in medi-

cine is just beginning to be understood.
Just
before I left Paris an experiment was made in the

Salpetriere Hospital, which was more wonderful

than the exhibition of the power of hypnotism
which this case affords. A woman who had been
hypnotized was placed in a chair on one side of a
screen ;
a dumb woman suffering from hysteria was
seated on the other side. A
magnet was large
placed near the hypnotized dumb woman, and by
its aid a magnetic current was established between

the two women. Speech was almost instantly

restored to the dumb
patient; and the other, when
awakened from the hypnotic condition, was dumb.
She was unable to utter a sound for several hours,

but in a very short time recovered the full use of

her organ of speech."
"But do you believe that an impression con-
veyed as you have described, could be put in
execution while the subject was in his natural
Bleep?" asked the District Attorney.
"It is not impossible."
"Have you ever known of such an instance?"

M. Nurgson admitted he had not. He added:

148 WAS IT A CRIME?

"
No man can say to what extent hypnotism may
be carried. It is one of the most powerful agents
mankind possesses. The world is only awakening
to its uses."
" If
murders are to be done by its aid it is bet-
world continue in ignorance, I think,"
ter that the

remarked the District Attorney.

Other scientific gentlemen were called. They
all testified to the admitted existence of the hyp-
notic power, and in various ways described its

attendant phenomena. They asserted their belief

in the possibility of the commission of a crime by
a hypnotic subject at the command of a wicked
operator.
The District Attorney had no testimony to offer.

He had not been able to find a scientific man in

New York who was willing to go upon the stand
and deny the existence of the hypnotic power, or
the possibility that a crime might not be committed

by its agency. Thus the trial of Henry Wheeler

was brought to a close, so far as the taking of testi-

mony was concerned.

The District Attorney knew that he had lost his

case; he read it in the faces of the jury, in the

manner of the Judge, and there could be no doubt

in his mind as to where the sympathy of the spec-
 "NOT GUILTY." 149

tators lay. His argument was brief. He showed

that it had been proved that -Wheeler was found in
the room with the body of the murdered man,
and with the doors locked; that there had been a

quarrel between the prisoner and the deceased on

the night before the crime was committed, and that
there was presumptive evidence of the existence of

jealousy on Wheeler's part, creating a sufficient

motive for the crime. He sat down, feeling that he
had done his duty.
"I leave the case of my client as it stands,"

said Mr. Wright. "The dying words of Helene

Menton, and the testimony of these eminent men,
versed in the science of the rnind have, I believe,
convinced the jury that Henry Wheeler is not

responsible to his God, nor to the law, for the com-

mission of this act. The scientific gentlemen, who
have described this strange power, have told you so.
If they can not be believed in a matter of this

nature, who can ? If they do not know, who does ?"

In charging the jury Judge Blackwood felt it to

be his duty to lay particular stress upon the im-

" " "
portance of the expert testimony. We live in

a progressive age," he said, "and it will not do to

set aside those things which our minds can not at

first fully grasp. My name is mentioned in the

150 WAS IT A CRIME?

confession of Helene Menton. It is true that I

was present at her house on the night before Paul
Denman came to his death. I feel it to be my
duty as a Judge, irregular as it may seem, to assure
you that on that night I saw indisputable evidence
of this strange power. Now, if
you believe that
Helene Menton told the truth in her dying words,
it will be
right for you to accept the testimony of
the gentlemen who have explained the
scientific

known extent of this power, and acquit the prisoner

at the bar."
" Thank God for a Judge who is not afraid to
aid justice," said Mr. Wright to himself.

The jury retired. It had been absent not more

than ten minutes when a tipstaff announced that it

was ready to report. The jurymen filed in and

took their places.
"Have you agreed upon a verdict?" asked the

Judge.
" We He handed
have," responded the foreman.
a slip of paper to the Clerk who read, aloud:

"Not guilty."
A cheer went up from the audience. No attempt
was made to restore order. Wheeler was hurried
away by Mr. Wright and Mr. Ellersly. Seated in
 "NOT GUILTY." 151

the lawyer's office, Mr. Ellersly said with pride, as

he glanced at Wright:
" Didn't I tell
you, Wheeler, my boy, that Jack
v/ould get you out of your troubles ?"
" To him and that noble woman I owe my life,"

replied Wheeler with feeling.

"What noble woman?" asked Mr. Ellersly in

surprise.
" Miss Menton, of course. It was a grand sacri-

fice; only a noble could have made it."

woman
What are you talking about? " said Mr. Ellersly
"

" If this noble woman had not died as she

sharply.
did you would have been hanged. There was no
sacrifice about it. Most people confess their crimes

before they die."

"You are mistaken in your opinion of Miss
" She had com-
Menton," replied Wheeler calmly.
mitted no crime. I believe she made that statement
to save my life, not because it was true. I am as

sure in my heart of that as I am that I did not

commit a murder."

"Who did then?" asked Mr. Ellersly, beginning

to fear that his friend had gone daft.

"Denman died by his own hand." Wheeler

seemed be annoyed that Mr. Ellersly should
to

believe that Denman had been murdered.

 CHAPTEE XV.
1
'THINK OF THE AWFUL VENGEANCE SHE WREAKED
THROUGH YOU."

The Menton house was closed indeed, it was

the Menton house no longer. With its beautiful
hostess cold in a new-made grave, with the wonder-
ful laboratory of Julius Menton denuded of its fur-

naces and retorts, and their owner over the seas in

Paris, ending his degenerate days in selfish oblivion,

it suggested only a memory of the days agone.
But the drawing room in which Miss Menton had
held her salons seemed to retain the old atmosphere.
When Julius Menton advertised the sale of his

furniture, Henry Wheeler hastened to buy it; and

when old Menton moved out Wheeler moved in,
much to the surprise of his friends, who thought he
should be the last man in the world to take up his

abode there. Mr. Ellersly protested vehemently.

He could not comprehend how Wheeler could volun-
tarily surround himself with the associations which

lingered around the place.

"
You might as well go to an insane asylum at
152
 " THINK OF THE AWFUL VENGEANCE.*' 153

" The memories

once," he said. of this place will

drive you mad."

" be sweet memories to me," Wheeler
They will

answered, simply.
And so they were. He placed his easel in the
old drawing room, and his working hours were
spent there. He believed he could feel the pres-
ence of the woman who had spent so many sad and
bitter moments within its walls. The only grief
he had was for the loss of her society. In his

dreamy moods he could imagine himself listen-

ing again to her voice, and he could see the out-
lines of her superb form. He erected a monument
over her grave, and revered her memory with a ten-
derness that was almost hallowed. At times, his
friends feared that the shadow which had fallen

upon his life had unsettled his mind, and yet there
was nothing in his manner to indicate that he was
unhappy. Though more thoughtful than of old,
yet he was as frank and cheerful as ever. He was
not in need of their sympathy.
He Denman, and when he did
rarely thought of
it was without tenderness. The friendship which
had once existed between them was not perpetuated
in memory. He sometimes felt that he owed it to
154 WAS if A CRIME'?

Miss Menton to despise the man who had caused

her so much misery.
He painted as he had never painted before, and
he wrote with a new virility. His character seemed
to be more stable, his individuality more intense.

He made a name for himself. Perhaps his strange

history had something to do with bringing him into

prominence, for anything or anybody who is unlike

anything or anybody else is quite sure of attention

from the world these days. However that may be,
Wheeler had more commissions than he could fill.

Thus he had entered a new life. The mystery of

Paul Denman's death had been a turning point in

his career.

One day, five years after the trial, Mr. Ellersly,

still hale and genial, though whiter of beard and
Wheeler's studio, watching with interest
hair, sat in
the development of a picture under the artist's
brush. They had sat for some moments in silence.

Mr. Ellersly looked long and thoughtfully at a life-

size, half-length painting in oil which hung upon

the wall immediately opposite the artist's stool. It

was an idealized portrait of Miss Menton a truly

wonderful work in its poetic treatment.

"Henry," asked Mr. Ellersly, suddenly, "why

do you have that picture hanging constantly before
 "THINK OF THE AWFUL VENGEANCE." 155

you?" nodding toward the portrait. "Doesn't it

give you the blue devils when you
look at her, and

think of the awful vengeance she wreaked through

you?"
"
"Why should it? asked Wheeler, turning from
his work, seriously but with evident irritation.
" Of course it should
not," replied Mr. Ellersly,

quickly and apologetically, "for you are not re-

sponsible for the act but doesn't
;
it call up unpleas-
"
ant memories ?

"My dear Mr. Ellersly," said Wheeler, "I can

never forget the kindness you have shown me, nor
the true friendship and aid you gave me when I
most needed sympathy and help. But I must beg
of you not to speak of this matter as if it was I
who killed Paul Denman. The thought is repul-
sive to me and equally as absurd. I have never

talked with you on this subject that is, I have

never told you what I believe, what I know.

"
Let us admit to start with that Miss Menton

despised Denman. It is possible that in the bitter-

ness of feeling which the wrongs he had done her

engendered, she may have attempted to take her re-

venge in the way she described in her confession.

This may be possible but I do not believe it. She
;

would never have made me a party even an inno-

156 WAS IT A CRIME?

cent one to a crime to a murder. However, ad-

mit that she did intend that I should do a murder.
Does it follow that I did it? Not at all. If she

had directed me to fly across the East Elver 'I be-

lieve those experts would have sworn that it was
not impossible for me to have done it. The theory
on which I was cleared of the charge of killing
Paul Denman was ridiculous. I am very sorry that
Miss Menton's confession was ever introduced. It

placed me in an awkward position. I could have been

cleared by showing that Denman killed himself.

We were all frightened at the time. For myself I

know that it was impossible to think clearly. But
I can see it all very plainly now.
"Wright should have shown that there was no
motive to connect me with the crime; that there
was absolutely no reason why I should have killed
Denman. We were not rivals, and I was never jeal-
ous of him, simply annoyed, at first, because I could
not learn what the relation had been between Den-
man and Miss Menton in Paris. The fact that I

was discovered in the room with the doors locked

conld have been used to my advantage, for a mur-
derer does not give the alarm to notify the world of
his crime, and call in witnesses to prove that he is

the guilty man. The whole theory is wrong.

 157

"I am convinced that Denman died by his own

hand. There was no murder about it. He was
morbid and full of strange fears that night, as he
himself confessed to me. Probably rejnorse so

preyed upon his mind as to suggest the ending of a

useless life. The jury could have been made to see
this. Wright's theory and his experts were unne-
cessary. If I committed that crime, don't you

believe that in all the years that have passed some

sudden thought would have come to me some
re-awakened impression that would bring back the
deed to my mind? There would be a something
that would tell me that it was
really I who killed
Paul Denman. I have never had such a thought
never the vaguest kind of impression. On the con-

trary, my belief that Denman committed suicide

grows stronger every day. I am a reasonable man;
I am in health; my brain is not affected, and I can
understand a proposition as clearly as most men.
Therefore I refuse to believe that I could commit
a murder under any influence and not know it. A
thousand experts could not make me think other-
wise. I shall believe as I do now to
my dying day."
And he did.

THE END.
WiS